


Beast of Burden

by gritsinmisery



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Humor, M/M, Songfic, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-31
Updated: 2010-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-06 22:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gritsinmisery/pseuds/gritsinmisery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yes, Bodie gets stuck with most of the load, but...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beast of Burden

**Author's Note:**

> For the "100 Greatest Rock Songs" challenge (#212) at [](http://community.livejournal.com/slashthedrabble/profile)[**slashthedrabble**](http://community.livejournal.com/slashthedrabble/), using the titular song by The Rolling Stones.

Beast of Burden

Doyle paused a moment on the path to the car, to stare up at the sky he'd not stood under for half a week and settle a camera bag more securely on his shoulder. "Nice, this," he remarked with a sigh, and headed for the Capri.

"Take your word, mate," muttered Bodie, bent nearly double under the burden of still and video camera tripods, a camp bed, and two duffle bags. Clearing out afterward was his least favorite part of an obbo, especially when his 'help' was a man as well versed in the latest work-avoidance techniques as his partner.

Bodie raised his head enough to watch the camera bag bounce off Ray's hip with every other step. Ray had on the faded jeans with the patch just off the rear seam; he'd worn them the entire length of the four-day op. Bodie'd spent every moment his eyes weren't glued to the binoculars desperately trying to keep his eyes off that patch. He'd failed more often than not, but managed to keep Ray from noticing. He'd also managed to keep from reaching out to trace the outline of that patch with his finger, but it had been a struggle.

With no way to open the boot and not wishing to drop his load in a heap on the pavement, he bellowed, "Oi, a little help?" at Doyle, already comfortable in the passenger's seat.

Ray sauntered back, opened the hatch, and started relieving Bodie of his parcels. "Look at you, all folded up," Ray tutted. "Get you home, mate; take care of you. Give you a nice massage to work out some of those kinks. Four days is too long to be cramped up like that." He ran a finger up the _front_ seam of Bodie's trousers. "Way too long."


End file.
